


Taste

by romanticalgirl



Series: Senses [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 06:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 10-22-03</p>
    </blockquote>





	Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 10-22-03

There's a pub down the street, but he doesn't stop, doesn't bother. He tries not to think, not to see young, smooth flesh. Tries not to imagine his own reflection, the scars, the mileage that shows on his skin.

He knows, understands, the desire to bathe in the innocence of the young, drown in the light touch of their inexperience. He's done it himself in weak moments, looking for something he's lost. Not finding it. Never finding it.

He passes another pub and stops, turns around. There had been a time when he'd given up his own addictions to help someone he loved give up hers. The fall from the wagon only hurts when you land.

"Scotch."

No one asks questions here. There's the heavy, sick smell of food, cloying, choking. Dishes and glasses clink despite the relatively early our and he tunes them out, wrapping his hands around a single malt as if he can stop the world if he just hangs on tight enough.

"You left a scent." The voice is soft, questioning.

"Yes, well." Giles lifts his drink, lets it pour down his throat like a river of fire. "It doesn't matter."

"Rupert..."

"I wasn't looking for you." He slams his glass on the bar, tapping for another.

"I didn't think..." Remus nodded, letting it lie. "How are you?"

"We don't owe each other anything, Remus." He downs the second glass and tosses his money on the bar.

"You're right." Remus agrees as he follows him out onto the street. "We owe each other nothing." They both know it's a lie. There are favors between them, unpaid debts. IOUs. "How is Willow?"

The name hits him like a knife, cutting him off at the knees. He stumbles forward, nails scraping stone as he catches himself on the next building. "Dead," he chokes, rounding on Remus in a fit of demented laughter. "Dead. They're all dead."

A night flashes between them, broken sobs in the darkness, the truth of James and Lily and Peter and Sirius. The truth and the pain as he knew it then. Remus in Giles's arms, those same broken words falling from his lips.

"Come home with me, Rupert."

"No." He shakes his head violently. "I don't want to intrude."

Remus reaches out and touches the haggard face, his fingers light enough to be imagined. "Come on then."

And he goes.


End file.
